On the Dome of Las Noches
by Perennial Lurker
Summary: A conversation on the dome of Las Noches, post chapter 354. One-shot. Slight Ichihime.


I wrote this story to advertise the fact that I want to beta for the summer. So.

Obviously, I don't own Bleach. Or the quotation near the beginning, which is from Percy Bysshe Shelley's _The Revolt of Islam_. It's in the sixth stanza of the dedication.

Warning: Those who know their poetry may find themselves exposed to a mild T.S. Eliot reference as well.

Enjoy.

* * *

A cold wind blows above the dome of Las Noches, and it carries with it the bitter scent of the sand below. Uryu Ishida wrinkled his nose at the dry scent, fine particles stinging against his skin and in his throat. Through the orange haze of the Soten Kisshun, which from a distance looked like the sun, the promise of a morning that would never arrive in this cold and desolate land, Uryu could see the sheared edge of the dome, a physical remenant of the fight that had lost him his hand.

He sighed, and turned his gaze to Inoue, seated next to him with a look that was both intense and distracted. In years to come, even after much else had happened, Uryu would sometimes see Inoue seated with a look of vague sadness on her face, and hear in his ears a shadowy echo of that terrible scream, an unendurable 'No' that had faded into gut-wrenching sobs. In those later years, that echo would make him turn away, shuddering at the memory of her pain. Now, only minutes afterwards, the look on her face made the scream ring in his ears like siren, and he heard again her plaintive cry, ''Help me, Kurosaki-kun!''. He could not bear it, that scream as visible as the wound which had inspired it.

Raising himself slightly, he called her name softly.

''Inoue-san, I'll continue to heal even if you're not here, right?'' She stared at him blankly, and then seemed to register his question.

''Yes, but it's faster if I'm concentrating. I'm sorry I got distracted, Ishida-kun, I'll heal you as quickly as I can.'' She bit her lip, as if to emphasise her newfound determination.

''Actually...'' He stopped to cough, his throat dry with the fine, bitter sand, and felt blood in his mouth. ''Actually, I was wondering if you would of go and talk to Kurosaki-''

''Oh no,'' she said, her eyes widening guiltily, ''I should stay here and heal you as quickly as possible, since... since...'' She trailed off. Uryu didn't push it, guessing the source of her worry. _Since that's the only thing she thinks she's useful for_.

''Inoue-san, it doesn't matter if you go. I don't need to be fully healed that urgently, and we both know that if someone doesn't go talk to that idiot soon, he'll just end up doing something stupid. So please don't worry about me.'' Her eyes widened, then softened into an expression of immense gratitude, seeming for the first time to reflect the glow of the Soten Kisshun.

''Thank you, Ishida-kun. I'll be back soon.'' She stood up slowly, bruised and dirty, her clothing torn, beautiful in her fragility, admirable in her straight-backed determination. Just as she turned, he saw her eyes fall, turning down to follow the creases engraved on her face by her time in Hueco Mundo.

As she walked away from him, Uryu felt tears start in his eyes, and he could not have said whether they were for Inoue, walking slowly and deliberately across the sand, for himself, as he felt the nerves of his hand once more, or whether they were simply caused by the cold, bitter wind.

***

It would be safe to say that Ichigo Kurosaki was struggling with one of the darkest moods of his short life. He stared restlessly out across the bleak desert, under the starless sky, under the omnipsresent crescent moon. He was sitting at the edge of the intact part of the dome, his arms wrapped around his knees to protect his bare chest from the cold wind. A peculiarly bitter smell stung his nostrils, and he wrinkled his nose.

''_Then black despair,/ The shadow of a starless night, was thrown/ Over the world in which I moved alone_''. It was from the beginning of one of his mother's favourite poems. He had never read the whole poem, finding it incredibly dull, but in this moment that one quotation came back to him, like a photograph that suddenly falls into the sunlight from an old and dusty book.

_Besides_, he thought dryly, it's apt. _For this world, for the battle I fought and, in truth, for me_.

That last thought was an uncomfortable one. Alone. All hollows were alone. In his battles with the arrancar he had seen it, very clearly. Each one, no matter what they had professed to him, had ultimately been terribly, utterly alone.

_Is that my fate? _The black thoughts his transformation had engendered wound through his skull, and in their wake came the darkest and most awful of them, the thought that he wished had not occurred to him, that he would have done anything to avoid. _None of this was my choice. I __became a hollow because of Ulquiorra, I acted as a hollow does, I was restored to myself by his attack. I chose nothing, I was nothing._

Behind him, he heard Inoue and Ishida speaking softly together._ Leave me be,_ he wanted to say._ Let this truce of silence last a little longer. Don't make me face you until the last possible moment_. Of course, it was a vain wish. He could feel the faint disturbances in Inoue's reiatsu as she stood up. Her presence was so distinct, the vast, warm glow of her power masked by her humanity, like the sun veiled behind a cloud, that it was simple to trace it as she walked across the sand towards him.

_What will she say? Will she blame me, will she accuse me? Or will she forgive me as calmly and kindly as she forgave Ulquiorra? And if she does, will that be worse, for it will mean that she sees him as nothing more or less than him, as a monster to be forgiven by her terrifying compassion?_ Ichigo knew, in some distant corner of his heart, that this was unfair to Inoue, but in his guilt he thought it, and in his guilt he hated himself for thinking it.

***

Orihime Inoue walked softly across the dome of Las Noches. As she turned away from Uryu she let her reassuring mask fall, and her eyes, cast down to the hard, white stone beneath her feet, filled up with her worries. _If only Ishida-kun hadn't suggested I go and speak to Kurosaki-kun, if only I could have delayed this a little. _Her hands clenched into tight fists as she gathered her courage._ I know that this was my fault. I have to tell him. I have to free him from the guilt he must must be feeling. I will do that. I will. I won't let my cowardice stop me. _She dragged her feet along the ground as slowly as possible. _Oh, Kurosaki-kun, be my friend a little longer!_

Kurosaki remained hunched bleakly against the stark outline of the dome edge, like a great black cormorant. He did not turn to look at Orihime as she approached, but she had no doubt that he knew exactly where she was. The way his shoulders tightened with each step she took was a visible hint._ If only I could reclaim what I felt when I faced Ulquiorra at the end. That sudden sense of clarity, of understanding. I saw him, just for a moment, so clearly. I knew just what to say, just how to say it. If only everything was as easily said as ''I'm not scared''._

Soon, far too soon, she reached him, and with a heavy sigh she sat down beside him, her white robe billowing around her. The air, drenched with fine sand, stung against the bruises on her shoulders. Alone of the three, she did not smell its bitter scent, inured to it by the duration of her captivity.

''Ishida-kun is doing well,'' she ventured. ''He'll be better in about five minutes.'' _I am such a coward, Kurosaki-kun. Give me just a minute more before I make you hate me._

''Five minutes? That's amazingly quick. You get stronger all the time.'' Ichigo's voice was strangled, and he did not turn to look at her. ''I'm lucky I have you around to reverse all the damage I do.'' There was an undisguised bitterness in what he said.

His words were enough to push Orihime to begin. _If only you knew how untrue that was, Kurosaki-kun_, she thought. She began to speak very rapidly, words pouring from her like blood from a wound.

''Kurosaki-kun, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!'' Already she could feel the pain of tears beneath her eyes, the ragged catching in her throat that made it difficult to speak. She fought against them furiously, determined to confess.

''When I saw you with, with that hole in your chest, I couldn't think. I couldn't bear it. I completely panicked. I wanted what had happened not to be, so badly. I cried out to you, but, but I swear, I didn't think. And then, when you were that thing, you looked at me, and you said you would help me... To think that you became that thing, all because of my stupid scream. I'm sorry I'm such a burden! I'm sorry I'm so weak. I wanted to protect everyone, but I couldn't do it.'' She drew a breath, still struggling to unveil the worst of herself.

''I'm sorry. Sorry, not just because I couldn't protect you, but because in the end, I wanted you to save me! I... I... If only I hadn't desired such a terrible thing!'' Orihime was losing her battle against her tears. Her words dissolved into incoherent sobs, broken by a mantra of repeated apologies.

***

Ichigo had heard Inoue's first apology with regret, another stab of guilt lancing sharply through his body as he thought to himself, '_Well done, genius, you made her cry_'. His guilt however, had quickly vanished as she continued, and when she reached her faltering explanation of his actions towards her, his astonishment was tempered by a powerful sense of release.

_Something remained. Some part of me was still there. I can build on that. I can find my way back._

At the same time, he was acutely aware of the self-hatred laced in every sentence of her monologue. _That's the first thing I need to approach. For all the rest... There will be time._

''Inoue-san, thank you for telling me this.'' She looked at him cautiously. Her face was stained with tears, and he realised this was only the second time he had ever seen her cry. _To show so much emotion in front of me... She must be at her absolute limit_. The words of Ulquiorra and Grimmjow echoed once more in his head, and he felt a sudden flare of anger at their treatment of this beautiful, sorrowful girl.

''What you've told me, I'm really grateful for it. If I said that to you, as I was, then it means that there was definitely some part of me left.'' Inoue opened her mouth to speak, but Ichigo cut her off sharply.

''Inoue-san, you aren't a burden. You are our precious friend, and we all want to protect you. I'm glad because if I said that it means, on some level, that thing wanted what I wanted.''

''Kurosaki-kun, you don't understand,'' she burst out, with a violence that astounded them both. ''I wanted you to save me. Because of that selfish desire, I hurt everyone. I can't do anything. I can't fight, I'm so useless, but I thought that at least I could prevent my weakness from hurting anyone. Yet, when it came to the test, my will failed. I couldn't even do that little thing.''

''Inoue-san, it's not a crime to want to be protected. None of us are strong enough to stand on our own. We came to get you because we couldn't have gone on without you.

''You know, I always thought that you have the hardest task of all of us. We fight, and in the adrenaline of battle, there's not much time to worry about yourself or anyone else. But you stand on the sideline, and you worry for us. You stand there, willing us to win, and when the battle is over, no matter whether I've won or lost'' at this point, Ichigo unconsciously slipped from the third to the first person ''you smile at me, and you think I've done well. You heal the wounded, you bolster everyone's spirits when they're flagging.

''Inoue-san, just because you don't wield a sword doesn't make you weak. You're one of the strongest people I know, always hiding your own thoughts because you don't want the people around you to worry.''

''But I want to fight! I don't ever... I don't ever want anyone to be hurt because of me.'' Inoue was staring at the ground, her hair hanging around her face, the one splash of colour in his view.

''If you really want to fight, Inoue-san, then I'm sure you and Tsubaki can find a way. But until you do, let me fight for you. It's not a burden for me to do that, since i became a shinigami, right from the beginning, so that I could protect the people important to me. So I promise I'll be your sword for as long as you need...'' He paused. Inoue looked like she wanted to deny what he was saying, and her eyes were still frighteningly sad, so he added gently, ''If you'll smile at me when I'm finished fighting.''

***

When Orihime heard Kurosaki's last words, she could only raise her head, her eyes wide and her face slack with wonder. He was looking at her with the kindest face she had ever seen, so full of emotion that she could barely meet his eyes. As she watched, he stood up and brushed the dirt off his shinakuso.

''Ishida's probably finished healing by now. Shall we go and see how his arm looks?'' He offered her his hand to pull herself up, and she caught it gingerly. Orihime stood, and together with Kurosaki she walked back towards Ishida, resting peacefully under the golden corona of the Soten Kisshun.

***

A cold wind blows above the dome of Las Noches, but Ichigo did not notice it. The sky is starless, but to Orihime, even the rubble underfoot seemed to have a luminous glow. The air is filled with the bitter scent of the sand, but Uryu, watching his friends walk towards him with their hands still clutched one to the other, neither of the pair realising it, could have sworn their unconscious joy had filled the air with a tangible perfume.

* * *

I didn't want to write this at the beginning, in case it put people off, but I am aware that Ichigo is a bit more... verbose than usual. And I went a little overboard on the ellipses. But otherwise, I'm reasonable satisfied with the whole thing.


End file.
